


Dying is easy, living is harder

by 80sGayTrashGoblin



Series: BAltDAU [3]
Category: Voltron: Lion Force (1984)
Genre: Alcohol, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Presumed Dead, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/80sGayTrashGoblin/pseuds/80sGayTrashGoblin
Summary: When someone in your life is gone, what do you do? Do you let the hole in your life consume you, drag you down? Do you drown out the sorrow with alcohol, searching for a release from pain? Do you fervently deny reality until everything comes crashing down? Do you let yourself go, falling so hard in denial that you check out of reality entirely?Or in other words, a glimpse into what it's like to grieve when someone is lost.
Series: BAltDAU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794631
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Dying is easy, living is harder

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry in advance. 
> 
> This is a bit of a vent fic. Apparently the only way I can handle negative emotions is through art, so here this is, because apparently I like to suffer more when I'm sad. At least this time I'm not just hurting Keith.

Pidge was the first to realize it. Realize that Keith wasn’t coming back. Was truly gone. 

He had been gone for two months, and Pidge was sitting on the couch, waiting for the others to come back from patrol. He was tinkering with some robot, he didn’t remember which one, his mind somewhere else right then. 

Pidge has known Keith for seven years. He’s seen Keith go through so much, and he was always able to overcome it. And anytime they’ve had to jail break from anywhere, they were out of there in less than a week. Regardless of where they were in the galaxy. 

Shouldn’t Keith be back by now?

“Hey, Pidge?” Allura asked, sitting on the couch next to him. Hunk plopped down next to him, and Lance drifted over to lean on the doorway.

“Hmm?” Pidge looked up, setting down his robot. 

“You good, man?” Hunk asked. 

“I’m fine.” The look on the other’s faces told him that they did not believe him. 

“A hipla for your thoughts?” Allura asked, slinging an arm around his shoulder and pulling him over. Pidge leaned into her with a sigh. 

“I was just thinking.” He looked down as his hands, one made of metal and one made of flesh. “We’ve been searching across the universe, and we haven’t found him. It’s been two months since he disappeared. What if he’s just gone?” 

It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. 

“No.” Everyone looked over at Lance, who had stood up, hands curled up into fists at his side. “He’s not gone. He can’t be gone. The rift, it’s a portal, right? He’s gotta be somewhere. He’s not GONE!” 

Before anyone could say anything, Lance stormed off. They all looked at each other, the room tense and nervous. 

“I know, it’s hard to keep hope,” Allura said, pulling Pidge into a hug. “But Keith’s strong. Maybe we’re just not looking hard enough. Maybe he’s keeping a low profile to keep the drule off of his tail. We have to keep looking.” 

Hunk had come over to join, and Pidge let himself cry. He sobbed, letting out the feeling of emptiness where there used to be someone. 

* * *

When Hunk realized it, it felt like he’d been hit by a train. Suddenly everything was unbearable: the silence, the emptiness, the hushed whispers, the feeling that someone was missing. Because someone was missing. Was gone. 

And often melancholy was easily fixed with alcohol. Which is why Hunk was sitting next to the kitchen table, a bottle of whiskey in his hands. 

He barely noticed when Allura sat down next to him. 

“Hey, bud. You good?” Allura asked, putting her hand gently on his in order to pull the bottle of whiskey out of his hands. 

Hunk sighed, leaning back in his seat. “You know, what if Pidge’s right?” 

“Probably not.” Hunk snorted at Allura’s knee-jerk response, which earned him an elbow in the side. Moments like these almost made him forget that something was wrong. “But really, what did Pidge say?” 

“Remember when Pidge said that Keith was dead.” 

The room went silent. Hunk took his whiskey back and took a swig. 

“No-” “Allura-” “He can’t be-” “Allura please-” “He’s not dead!” “Allura!” 

They both looked at each other, and Hunk could see what was in Allura’s eyes. Bags hung under her eyes, and it wasn’t hope that shone in them. It was denial. And denial was a hell of a drug. 

“Just, listen to me.” Hunk took another swig of whiskey. “It’s been two and a half months. I’ve known Keith for seven years. He’s great, but he can’t disappear off of the face of the universe. I’m not saying we should stop looking, but we should be prepared for the worst.” 

Tears welled up in Allura’s eyes, and she snarled, a hint of gold flashing in her eyes. “No. He’s still alive, he has to be. He’s never given up on any of us. We cannot give up on him.” 

Hunk sighed, putting down the bottle of whiskey and putting his hands on her shoulders. He knew that denial left when it left, and that there was no point in trying to push it further. “How much sleep have you gotten?” 

Allura’s head hung. “I don’t know. I haven’t slept at all tonight. I just keep remembering that flash of light, when he disappeared.” Tears started to gather in her eyes. “I just, he can’t be dead. He just can’t.” 

Hunk pulled her into a hug, letting her sob into his chest. He thought about how they got there, two twenty-somethings standing in a kitchen crying about their friend- no, family, who was gone. 

Keith was gone. 

He pulled Allura tighter, letting a few tears join hers. 

* * *

Allura sat down next to a small bookshelf, looking through and organizing old scrapbooks. She had been kicked out of the control room, being told by Coran that she needed to get some rest, relax. So she figured she would reorganize the old scrapbooks that she and the rest of the Voltron Force had made. 

A picture of some student’s dorm, filled to the brim with pasta. A different picture, from the same day, with Pidge on a hospital bed giving a thumbs up to the camera. A picture from the Garrison Academy prom, with Keith in a red dress punching Jeff in the face in front of the punch table. Allura’s shitty sketches of their Monsters and Mana characters, and Lance’s actually good ones. A picture of Keith when he was transformed into a girl. A picture of the team chilling in the hot tubs after a particularly stressful battle. A picture of Keith. A picture of the team. A picture of-

Allura didn’t realize when the tears actually started falling, quickly rubbing them off and shoving the scrapbook off of her lap. She didn’t want to ruin those memories with tears. 

“Auntie ‘Lura?” She looked up when she heard her name, and saw Iris standing there. She held a scrapbook in her hands, likely one that she had been working on. Allura could see the very intricate lettering on the front: ‘Iris.’

Iris was Keith’s daughter. And Keith was gone. 

Allura burst into tears, startling the young girl. “Auntie ‘Lura!” She said, kneeling down besides her. “Are you okay?” 

Instead of answering, Allura pulled her into a hug. They stayed like that for a while, Allura letting it all out while Iris sporadically patted her back, trying to help her aunt feel better any way that she could. 

Finally, Allura let her go. “What have you been looking at?” She asked, her voice wobbly and hoarse. 

Iris plopped herself into Allura’s lap, opening up the scrapbook. The pictures were all of Iris hitting various milestones, or hanging out with the others, or family pictures of everyone together. She could see Keith’s handwriting, intricate cursive in red pen, contrasted with Lance’s messy print in blue. 

“I was looking through the pictures again,” Iris said, flipping through it aimlessly. “It almost makes me feel like dad’s still here.” 

Allura’s breath hitched, and Iris looked up at her. “Auntie ‘Lura? Is dad coming back?” 

Her tongue felt heavy, pressed down with the weight of the truth. Instead, she shook her head slowly, and simply said, “I’m sorry, Irie.” 

Iris mechanically blinked, setting the scrapbook to the side. She was trembling, shaking, looking like there was something within her that was about to burst at any minute. 

Allura gently pulled Iris into a hug, running her fingers through her niece’s hair as she cried. As she sat there, old memories scattered around her, she wondered how she could ever move forward. 

* * *

They held a funeral, of course. Keith was well loved by the people of Arus, and there were mass vigils across the globe. The actual funeral itself though, was small, only immediate family. And friends. But they weren’t friends. They used to be friends, but they weren’t anymore. They were family now. 

Allura was dressed in a black gown, the rain soaking into her skin, her umbrella folded in front of her. She stood in front of the grave, under the tree on the hill near the castle. It’s where they always went for fireworks. It’s where Sven wanted to be buried if he ever kicked the bucket while on Ebb. It’s where Keith’s grave sits now. 

The grave was simple, as Keith wouldn’t have wanted a big one. Black granite, gold lettering. “Keith Kogane. 2064-2085. May he rest in peace, knowing that the world is a much better place when he left it than when he entered it.”

Hunk stood next to her, one hand on her shoulder as the rain came pouring down. It was odd, as rain was rare for Northern Arus. It was almost as if the planet itself was grieving it’s greatest protector. 

Pidge held her free hand, actually getting dressed up for once. His glasses were getting wet, his vision surely starting to go blurry, but he made no move to clean them. 

The other attendants had gone inside already. Iris wanted to stay out there with them, but Twyla insisted on her coming inside with everyone else. It was just them. Three Voltron knights who have lost their leader. 

Lance never showed up. 


End file.
